


Try A Little Tenderness

by ohwhoadude



Category: Bill & Ted (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dirty Dancing, Eventual Smut, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Yes you read that right
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:33:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27749815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohwhoadude/pseuds/ohwhoadude
Summary: Ted "Theodore" Logan doesn't have any plans beyond keeping to himself when he, his father, and younger brother travel out for a summer getaway to Lake Tahoe before he's off to the Peace Corps, but he's in for something else entirely when he meets the one person that could turn his life around forever.
Relationships: Ted "Theodore" Logan/Bill S. Preston Esq.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 22





	1. Be My Baby

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my God okay hello. Let's talk about this.
> 
> Over a month ago at this point, I was turned onto the idea of an AU with these two surrounding this film because frankly: the archetypes just made sense to me and a couple others. Baby is very naive but determined in a very Ted way while Johnny is rather cranky with a heart of gold like Bill has a tendency to be when the mood strikes. So much of it during my discussions about it felt so right that it couldn't escape me and I had to make a full outline of how I could make it work. Obviously the more serious content from the film won't be here since it's much too heavy for a Bill & Ted fic so plot points like Penny's storyline have been edited heavily to be less gut-wrenching and plot elements like Robbie's existence and the questionable age gap between Johnny and Baby have been removed completely (for the record Ted is 18 and Bill is 19 here). The resort I chose for the Logans to stay at is indeed a real one that technically wasn't open yet in 1963, but fuck it. Please don't sue me, Edgewood Lodge; thanks!
> 
> Finally and most importantly I cannot thank foxwatson and BabeReport (both of whom you should sub to on here!) enough for their help and encouragement throughout this entire process. I don't have every chapter already ready to go yet, but I have an extremely clear idea of where I'll be taking this and it's all thanks to those two who I adore and our little Dirty Dancing Think Tank. I'm so grateful and will continue to be as I get stuck or frustrated while writing for their presences. Now that I've let the cat out of the bag, feel free to follow me on twitter @ohwhoadude for whining and updates about this (although that will be sporadic for a bit since my life is sort of in shambles at the moment). 
> 
> And that's it! Let's fucking do this:

It’s approximately six hours into the nearly eight hour journey to Lake Tahoe from San Dimas that Ted realizes that he’s run out of ways to stop being nervous about the resort he’d be staying at this summer.

He spent the first hour having a small nap that was interrupted by Deacon kicking the back of his chair on their dad’s insistence that he wake him up to help him watch the road. For the next hour and a half, Ted tried to count each bit of plant life they passed only to trip himself up over whether or not he should count trees or not. Once he got halfway through and decided to try to study up on how to prepare for his peace corps training once the summer was over, it occurred to him that thinking about those plans would only stress him out more so he gave up and shoved his notebook back in his backpack.

It’s once Ted lets himself fall back on his usual way of trying to focus by bouncing his foot where he sits in the passenger’s seat that he realizes he’s in trouble, especially when Dad scoffs and sighs out, “I can’t concentrate when you do that, Theodore.”

So he stays still, glancing around for anything he can find to soothe him. It makes him feel stupid to be so worried, honestly, knowing that this trip to the Edgewood Resort filled with all sorts of summer activities is supposed to be something exciting. The three of them aren’t poor by any means, but it’s usually the elite that stay up here every year and if it wasn’t for Dad being an old friend of the owner’s back from their school days on top of being the police chief, they definitely wouldn’t be staying here for 1963’s showing. It’s under the guise of his father purely being part of the security for the season, but Ted and Deacon both know he’ll be wining and dining with every other old fogey there. Deacon has plenty of excitement for the both of them, knowing there’ll be plenty of kids his age there which feels like a dream for a freshly fourteen year old boy, but he’s always been the more sociable between the two of them. It’s not like Ted’s never tried to make friends; he’s just much too shy to ever really keep any. His brother is the closest thing he’s got to a best friend and it’s a sad state of affairs for an eighteen year old expected to start roaming the streets for a job and a wife the second he’s done with the peace corps now that he’s supposedly an adult. Only one of those objectives is his idea and it’s a miracle Dad didn’t lecture him for not going into the Army proper instead.

As he tries not to linger on that, Ted wishes he could let his hair down and play with it, sometimes liking to twirl a few strands between his fingers and unfurling them. Another miracle of his life is that Dad stopped yelling at him to cut it since it supposedly made him look like a girl where it lay down to his shoulders, his father knowing that he’d have to cut it once the summer was over anyway, but that did mean he was often encouraged to pull it back out of sight despite how his shaggy bangs could never behave. He also likes to tug at the hairband he usually keeps around his wrist for it, but he doesn’t have that either and didn’t really have anything else to use his hands with unless he wanted to make noise and disturb Dad. It’s hard not to think that for the next two hours he’ll be stuck with anxiety over having to deal with strangers and pressure from all sides to interact with them in ways that he might hate.

And then, like another miracle’s been thrown at him, he hears the soft crinkling of comic book pages from the backseat.

Deacon brought a small stockpile of them to read on their journey and now he’s making use of them, something that Dad is only a tiny bit unhappy about. Ted’s little brother is a brat when he wants to be by calling him stupid nicknames and teasing him, but he hides it well enough to keep from getting yelled at like Ted is frequently for being weirder than other teens which means that he’s allowed to indulge in hobbies their conservative father doesn’t care for. Dad still thinks comic books are junk food for your brain just like TV and rock music, but they at least get to have it every so often. In lieu of not being able to hear any actual current music on the oldies station being played at a painfully low volume, Ted lets himself hone in on the sound of Deacon reading to focus on and it’s strangely calming. There’s no distinct pattern to it since he knows how sporadic the number of panels can be since the two of them trade comics sometimes, but it’s still such a gentle noise that it brings him some peace. When he looks up at the rearview mirror, he can see it’s _Batman_ #156, a stressful one since the cover is the caped hero himself carrying what appears to be Robin’s dead body.

After a few seconds, Deacon looks up to catch Ted’s gaze in the mirror and smiles when he notices before holding up the comic up to show he’s in the middle of reading Ant-Man’s latest adventure. Ted only has time to smile back before Dad’s on Deacon to get it out of his view of the road behind them. Luckily for Ted, that issue is just one of a dozen he brought that should last him the rest of the journey.

Just as Deacon finishes his last issue, they’re finally pulling up to the resort and if Ted didn’t already feel intimidated before, the expansive, elaborate shape of it would’ve been enough to do it. The lodge’s parent company owned over five thousand acres which let the lodge expand an abundant amount, having a full golf course, multiple restaurants, and a dance studio among other luxuries. They’d just refurbished their cabin villas closer to the woods, the nicest of which the Logans would be staying in that month, and Ted was tentatively hopeful that being further away from all the activity like the various summer sports in full swing they pass by would calm his nerves. The beautiful wood finish arch held up by granite pillars that they park under makes him feel like he’s being swallowed whole by the extravagance of it all, able to see the elaborate artwork sitting above the pristine marble floor of the lobby from where he sits. Once they’re settled, out comes the lodge owner through the large glass doors, to greet them. On all accounts, Sidney Oats is a rather shrewd businessman but according to the stories Cap. Logan insisted on telling his sons, still has some sense of humility. He busted his ass through internships and deadend positions at Hilton, Marriott, and every other American hospitality chain on the market until he impressed enough people to open his own playground for the rich.

Not to mention he’s got a mean swing that Ted and Deacon got to hear Dad ramble about wanting to one-up him on during their journey.

A tall, tree trunk of a man who looks like he belongs on a battlefield instead of this meager industry, Oats is followed by a young woman that seems to be a couple years older than Ted. Her long, dark curls that are pulled up in a messy bun bounce behind her as she sprints to the trunk while Dad makes his way out of the car to shake hands with his old friend. After the absolute grouch he’s been on the drive here, it’s actually pretty funny to see him switch on a dime into a much more chipper attitude as he chuckles out, “Looks like you’re still doing pretty well, Sid.”

“The squeaky wheel gets the grease, Chet,” he says before gesturing towards Ted and Deacon where they stay in the car with their windows down. “And it looks like these boys are still plenty healthy.”

Both of them have shot up like weeds since Oats last visited their home years ago and instead of the broader form Deacon’s development, Ted feels gangly and too long with his height. He doesn’t seem to be the only one who thinks so too with how Dad snorts and says, “If you say so.”

Oats laughs, the two of them looking right at Ted when he does, making him sigh and get out to distract himself. Dad didn’t bother to grab the keys to help that girl grab their luggage so he takes it upon himself to where they still rest in the ignition while Deacon’s forced to make pleasantries with the much older men. Ted feels bad about how this employee was immediately ignored, so it’s only natural for him to run and unlock the trunk for her with a small, “Sorry, I’ll get that.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she says, the soft British tilt of her voice taking him by surprise. “I’ve been given special instruction to be more than accommodating to the Logan family no matter what.”

Ted looks up from where he opens the trunk for her to see his father and Oats still chumming it up with the former still unaware of her presence and shakes his head. “You don’t have to worry about me and Deacon,” he says before pulling out his first suitcase for her. “Just let me know where to go and-”

“No please, I’m fine.” She points to a metallic blue scooter parked near the doors, a wide carriage attached to it with plenty of room for their suitcases. “You can help me get everything out though if you must - fair enough?”

Ted squirms where he stands even as he nods and joins her in grabbing their luggage; it’s not that he must help her out, it’s that he _wants_ to. The one time he doesn’t feel terribly awkward and uninformed around people is when he’s assisting them with something, be it big or small. It feels so genuinely good to know he’s made someone’s day or smile at the very least which is the entire reason his summer’s ending the way it is and why his anxiety starts to shrink as he carries his bags over to load into that scooter. “So um,” he starts, admiring it once he’s got his side of the trunk in. “Is Mr. Oats okay to work for?”

“That depends on what you’d call okay,” she answers with a laugh. “He’s not a tyrant, just very - particular. Your father’s the police chief, right? Surely you understand.”

He has to assume it’s a joke, but Ted more than understands, remembering the stern talking to about how it’s vital that he makes friends and actually interacts with people besides Deacon during their stay so as not to embarrass him. All he does is nod with a soft laugh before turning his head at the sound of his brother whistling to be met with him sticking his head out the window to watch. “Don’t meet girls without me, _Teddy_ , come on!”

Even if this potential new friend tuts and laughs, Ted immediately finds himself turning red and turning away from her at the idea Deacon’s shoving on him. She really is very pretty with kind eyes and rosy apple cheeks, but he’s definitely not seeing himself going in that direction with anybody this month let alone someone whose name he doesn’t know yet. He’s desperately hoping that she won’t try to lean into it as he turns back with a shrug and says, “I don't - it’s not like that-”

“No matter,” she laughs warmly. “Is there anything else you need?”

Ted shakes his head rapidly, not wanting to keep her longer than he needs to. “Thanks, it’s most charitable of you.”

“Tell the captain he just has to follow the main road then turn right to get to the cabin trail and you’ll find your bags ready in your temporary home.” Once she’s hopped on her scooter and makes sure their luggage is secure where it resides, she flashes him a smile and says, “But thank you, Teddy, it was nice to meet you.”

Ted blinks dumbly. “Uh, no problem, but-”

“I’m Liz, by the way,” she says brightly before waving and starting the ignition. “See you later!”

Liz speeds off before he can get the chance to correct her properly, turning to scowl at Deacon once she’s gone. “Thanks a lot, Deacon.”

Deacon shrugs before leaning back in his seat. “Girls like cute names, deal with it.”

“It’s not cute,” Ted says as he heads back to the car, sitting down once he’s got the door open with a huff before slamming it as gently as he can to keep Dad from noticing. “And _you_ deal with it.”

His brother can only snicker at him as they wait for their father to hurry up already.

Sure enough once they arrive at their admittedly gorgeous wood cabin, Liz has split up their luggage by owner to sit in wait in their respective bedrooms and Ted wastes no time unpacking to give himself busywork. Deacon’s content to fall face first onto his bed instead while Dad inspects every other room, his heavy footsteps keeping Ted on edge. Their father likes to perform a weekly inspection of their bedrooms to make sure they're spotless and Ted hopes that he’ll relax and drop it for these next few weeks, the sounds of his parading through the cabin reminding him of it. Dad hasn’t said much of anything since leaving the lobby and it should calm Ted’s nerves, but it only makes them bubble up in his throat while he hangs up his clothes in his new closest. Once that’s done, he pulls out his notebook from his backpack and has every intention on journaling his initial impressions, but the sound of his father clearing his throat from the doorway stops him. Ted swallows thickly when he turns to face him, mumbling out, “Yes, sir?”

“I guess you don’t have any plans to follow up with Liz?”

Ted grits his teeth, knowing Deacon wasn’t actively trying to get Dad started by talking about his brief interaction with her on the way there but resenting it anyway. “I mean - she’s probably busy and I don’t wanna-”

“Well it’s no use anyway,” Dad says, crossing his arms and shrugging. “Because you’re right actually - Sid’s got her directing all the dancers and other ‘creative’ types around here so you’ll have no luck with her.”

“Okay.” Ted lets himself breathe out a sigh of relief before resting his notebook on his bed and saying, “I guess I’ll just relax and-”

“But her sister’s available.”

Dad sounds too hopeful with his words, making him look up from where he’s getting his photo of Mom out to rest on the bedside table. “What do you mean by that?”

He barks out a laugh like Ted’s an idiot. “I mean if you have any interest in doing what I asked you, your first friend is ready and waiting. If you can manage it, that is - her name’s Jo, you’ll meet her at dinner.”

And just like that, Dad leaves, making Ted hold that photo of his mother close to his chest without thinking. He sprints to set the gold framed image of him at six years old sitting in her lap in their backyard on the bedside table before sitting on his bed and beginning to write, trying to ignore the sounds of Dad gushing to Deacon about what a nice time he hopes they have. There are no words of warning, no sly threats, only the two of them going back and forth about Deacon’s plans from the list of activities at his disposal and for the second time in two minutes, Ted feels resentful. It’s not his little brother’s fault and he knows that, the youngest Logan just trying his best to mind his Ps and Qs whenever Ted’s getting talked down to, but sometimes he wonders how much more he’d be interested in actually trying to relate to people if he didn’t have the looming pressure to do it on his shoulders.

...Okay fine, the idea still sounds heinous to him, but a little less so without Dad around.

The impending setup swirling around in his brain, Ted decides to get up and walk it all out by exploring the grounds beyond the golf course that resides past the cabins, too antsy to mind when Deacon insists on joining him. Thankfully for them, Dad has to stay behind and make a few phone calls to see which of his patrolmen will be joining his security team during their stay so the two are free to talk amongst themselves once they get away from him. The beachfront extends over the entire parameter of the land the lodge rests on and Deacon points towards the game of volleyball happening near the beginning of the villa trail and says, “There’s some more girls for you!”

“Deacon, come on!”

Deacon laughs and bumps their shoulders as they walk past. “I’m messing with you, Ted, I don’t care what you do up here,” he says sincerely. “Even if I think you should totally play baseball with me.”

“No way, I wouldn’t be good at it,” Ted says, looking out to the pool behind the main building in the distance. “I’d rather swim.”

“You’d be really good at running the bases, though.”

“And you’d be better.” Ted jumps and stops at the sound of a group of middle aged women in the middle of watching a game of tennis between two of their ilk cheering them on, making Deacon stumble as he stops with him. “You’d be more into that too,” he says, covering his ears for just a second before letting his arms rest at his sides before he continues walking at a faster pace.

“Cheering’s a good thing, Teddy,” Deacon says while he sprints to catch up. “If that’s too loud, you definitely don’t want to be at the pool. People are probably gonna make out there.”

Ted laughs. “What do you know about making out?”

“More than you!”

He just laughs again, Deacon joining him this time as they pass by a group painting a demurely clothed still life model closer to the lodge proper. There’s a game of croquet being played by a group of teens that look like they have more money than the two of them have ever dreamed of having a few yards away from the lesson while a couple families are having picnics closer to the beach and it all makes Ted feel out of his element. The baseball diamond, main dining hall, and the staircase that leads up to the dance studio are on the other side of the establishment with the three of them looking just as busy and making him feel just as lost. Deacon, however, looks thrilled as they reach the front of the lodge again and he looks into the bustling lobby. “You think the rooms in here are better than the cabins?”

Ted shrugs. “I like where we’re staying, it’s most beauteous.”

“Most bew-what?”

“...It’s really pretty.”

“Oh,” Deacon laughs out before shrugging. “I guess so.”

The way Ted can get flowery with his language annoys their father and he supposes it’s rubbing off on his brother now, making him shake his head and keep moving to let Deacon meet the kids already in the middle of a game. Under the enthusiastic cheers from those in the stands over an admittedly amazing homerun one boy lands, however, Ted can hear the laughter of much older guests yards away at the dining hall. He lets himself come to a stop to lean against one of the trees separating these sections of the grounds and watch as Liz leads what's actually a group of a dozen employees in their age range to the dance hall, a clipboard in her hands as she seems to be instructing them. A few of them have cans of soda or snacks in their hands, using them as fuel for whatever rehearsal he assumes they’re off to, and Liz is clearly in charge as she speaks passionately about the plans for the day. She’s dragging her finger along the list she’s got jotted down and manages to get to the end before she’s interrupted by howling laughter from the group after the guy closest to her stops to clearly crack a joke at her expense. Before Ted can worry for her, Liz simply scoffs with a grin and smacks at his arm with her clipboard, gesturing for them to keep following her once he’s satisfied.

Ted knows he should go back to Deacon, but now he’s finding it difficult to pull his eyes away from that guy as he unwraps a granola bar and takes an eager bite out of it behind Liz.

His hair is a mop of golden curls that look impossibly soft even with the way either side of his head is shaved down to frame them, the way they stick up and out making him just barely reach Liz’s height. Despite his shorter stature, however, he’s clearly one of the dancers with his strong but lean build, his arms toned and muscular where they’re on display thanks to the gray tank top with Edgewood’s emblem he’s got on. Ted’s gaze lands on the elaborate scorpion tattoo sat high on his right shoulder and he finds himself breathing faster as the way it flexes as the other man stretches his arms over his head, his face twisting in pleasure over it. That face is so unbelievably handsome with sharp cheekbones, an even sharper jawline, and maybe the most perfect nose a guy could ever have with the way his sunglasses rest delicately on the bridge of it.

This guy might be the most beautiful man he’s ever seen and even if he feels like he’s committing a sin by watching him, Ted doesn’t dare move away from that tree and lose sight of him.

The way Deacon cries out for him is the only thing that could get him to move, turning to run back to the lodge where his brother’s stood at the other end and looking around the corner at the gazebo on the hill nearby. The boy looks enraptured at the sight of a dance class going on inside of it led by a young woman in a flowing hot pink salsa dress and matching heels. Her blonde hair's blown out to perfection as she moves in the middle of a group of guests whose skill levels range from perfect to tripping over their feet. Ted overheard Oats talking about daily free meringue lessons meant to try to entice guests to sign up for more intensive sessions in the studio with one of their two instructors earlier and it seems today’s had a captive audience in Deacon who points at the gazebo and says, “Are you seeing this?”

Ted shrugs. “They’re just dancing.”

“Dude, come on,” Deacon groans out before pointing again, this time at today's instructor. “She’s the _real_ pretty thing in this place! You gotta like this girl at least.”

It’s difficult to really study her, that guy still on his mind, but Ted has to admit that she is quite beautiful with a more Old Hollywood look to her than the other younger women around. The corner of her eyes crinkle when she smiles through her encouragements even if Ted gets the feeling it’s all for show since it seems like leading this class is a struggle with how some of the guests are failing to impress. By the time she manages to get them into a successful conga line around her, the instructor’s finally grinning genuinely from ear to ear and he’s pulled away from her by Deacon tapping him on the shoulder with, “Dad would really be happy if you pulled her.”

Ted scoffs and shakes his head. “Shut up, Deacon,” he says, ignoring the way Deacon yells that he was only joking as he leads him to the baseball diamond.

They spend the rest of the afternoon before having to head back and change for dinner on the field, Ted sitting high on the bleachers away from anybody else while Deacon gets acquainted with the other boys playing. Ted lets himself go from watching his brother have no problem joining in with their games and admiring the wonderful view he has from the highest seat. If he manages to survive through the night, he plans on spending his day on the beach to bask in the sun since it looks like there’s plenty of room in the sand to keep his distance from anyone. Maybe Dad will get on his case about it, but he reasons that he has plenty of time to make friends if he absolutely must; he’s just going to have some time to himself first even if it kills him.

Which makes it deeply uncomfortable once dinner rolls around and he’s immediately thrust into a date he never asked to go on when the three of them enter the crystalline dining hall and see the young blonde who can only be Jo sitting at an empty table meant for them.

Even if she’s cute as a button and clearly Liz’s sister with her kind eyes and charming demeanor while the four of them talk and eat, Ted doesn’t understand why this is happening in the first place. As far as he knows, neither sister has any relation to Oats and Jo is merely a member of the creative team for the entertainment department under Liz’s directorial position so it’s not like their boss is doing one of his daughters or nieces a favor. While she’s nice to talk to and doesn’t try to force any conversation points out of him like Dad does (even if she also thinks his name is Teddy while nobody bothers to correct her), Ted slowly starts to gather that maybe she was simply just randomly picked out of a lineup of the female employees to match him with and it makes him want to crawl into a hole and live in it until the month’s over. She’s much more outgoing than he is with different interests and he has no interest in trying to date her no matter how much any parties try to make it happen. He’s fully ready to deny it too if anyone even assumes it’s because he’s thinking about a much different blond at the table.

After they’ve had dinner - which Ted has to admit is absolutely stellar despite its reason for happening - the group head for the dance hall where Edgewood’s live-in jazz band’s playing an incredibly gentle rendition of _In A Sentimental Mood_ for dancing patrons bathed in a royal purple hue. Oats is standing near the stage observing the floor and lights up when he sees them, waving Dad over to chat and leaving his sons standing awkwardly near the entrance with Jo. As Deacon’s bobbing and weaving to look for anyone his age, Ted shoves his hands into the pockets of his tan dress slacks to give himself something to do. Jo’s the one to open her mouth first, turning to Ted with a smile as she asks, “Do you know how to waltz?”

He shakes his head nervously, looking down at his feet. “Do you?”

“A little,” she says, clasping her hands together as she bends forward a little to try and look at his face. “It’s easy to pick up a few steps when you’re always around dancers.”

She laughs once she’s finished, making Ted force himself to chuckle with her. He’s hopeful that Deacon will save him from this, but once he looks back up, his brother’s nowhere to be found. He’s run off and found some friends in a group that consists of some of the boys from the baseball field and a few girls, one of which is already tugging him onto the dance floor to sway with her. Ted guesses he’s happy for him, cheerfully giving him a thumb’s up when Deacon looks back at him with a smug smirk, but it still feels terrifying when Jo takes his hand and asks, “Shall we join them? It wouldn’t hurt to try.”

Ted’s mouth twists to the side apprehensively as he looks up to see Dad and Oats observing them from the other end of the hall. “I guess so,” he says, only jumping a little when she starts to lead him to the floor.

They end up right in the heart of the other guests, Jo’s hand slotting into perfect position immediately while Ted hovers the hand not locked with hers over her waist. She chuckles over it before grabbing it and setting it where it needs to be before leading them, her steps gentle and easy in contrast with how he shuffles awkwardly. Ted looks up to see if Deacon’s struggling just as much only to find him already nailing it as he gently twirls his giggling partner before pulling her back in, making him feel most inadequate when he steps on Jo’s foot hard. When she squeaks and steps back over it, he immediately shakes his head and yelps out, “I am _so_ sorry!”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” she sighs out, blowing a few curls out of her face as she raises her hands in surrender. “We don’t have to dance, Teddy, it’s okay.”

“I still feel bad,” he says, cognizant of Dad and Oats’ gaze on the two of them. “What else can we do then?”

Jo looks at the stage before a smile creeps on her face and she’s looking at him giddily. “There’s a show going on in the convention room. Liz is running it, but she might need our help backstage and you’re taller than a lot of us. Want to go?”

Ted doesn’t really, wanting to just go back to his room and call it an early night, but the idea of keeping his father off his back about connecting with Jo on top of helping out two people that have shown him genuine kindness tempts him. That combined with the sudden cheering surrounding them once the band is finished and Oats is preparing to announce a dance act has him ready to get out of there. “I can do that, yeah.”

“Fantastic,” she says before grabbing his hand again and sprinting towards the door. “I’ll see this act how it should actually go later anyway.”

When Ted turns to see Dad giving him the okay symbol at the sight of a girl dragging him away in the night, he swears that he sees the one man he’s desperate to look at up close strutting onto the stage, but Jo’s already got him out the door by the time he realizes it.

To Ted’s immense relief, Jo lets go of him by the time they’re outside and doesn’t attempt to get romantic with him on their journey to the main building. Instead she offers fun insider facts about working at the Edgewood like weird guest interactions she’s had, bits of gossip about Oats, and a mini-tour of the lodge itself once they’re inside. She talks a mile a minute and it’s a little difficult to follow at times, but her enthusiasm delights Ted and he’d much rather be here listening to her instead of stuck under the watchful eye of his family the whole time. Just as they reach the convention room, she pulls a ring of keys from her handbag to unlock an Employee’s Only entrance that hides the hall leading to the backstage area. “Tonight we’re doing a Vaudeville show,” she says while guiding him down the way. “We let guests volunteer to perform and can’t let them get hooked even if they’re awful which is why we have some of our dancers do really terrible acts on purpose so people can laugh and not feel bad.”

“Wait, you guys really hook people?”

Jo laughs as they reach their destination and find Liz looking much more casual compared to the respectful evening dress Jo has on hovering over a few performers gussying up at the vanity table while crew members carry a large fir tree standee to place onstage. “That’s why we have plants, Teddy. If we let ourselves pull the guests off stage when we wanted, we’d get fired.”

Liz spins around at the sound of their voices, laughing and running forward to hug her sister and ask, “What are you two doing here?”

“Ask Teddy.”

When the pair look at him, Ted giggles nervously. “I can’t dance.”

Liz snorts. “Want to be a bad act then?”

“No way,” he says immediately, shaking his head so quickly that his ponytail might come loose. “I’ll do anything else though.”

Jo looks over him before reaching out towards his shoulder, looking at him with a hopeful glance for silent permission and patting it firmly once he nods. “You have long strong arms,” she says before turning to Liz. “Has anyone been pulled yet?”

“One or two,” Liz answers. “But the hook just barely reached them.”

Ted doesn’t realize what Jo’s getting at until Liz runs to pull that hook from a stagehand and shoves it in his hands, making him stumble back while Jo says, “Not anymore it won’t.”

“But I don’t want to hurt anybody,” Ted says as he looks down at the long, wooden hooked stick in his hand and twirls it between his fingers. “What if I break someone’s leg or something?”

“You won’t, Teddy,” Liz assures, pointing towards the stage with her clipboard to guide him and Jo closer to the edge. “Our dancers are very nimble and can keep themselves on their toes.”

“But-”

“It’s fine,” both sisters say at once as they stop to get a view of the current performer and carefully guide him forward.

It’s obvious from the sound of the current singer caterwauling his way through _I’m Always Chasing Rainbows_ at an exaggerated tone that he’s one of the plants, a few stagehands yelling out boos and hisses to trigger the audience to join them. Once Jo and Liz cry out one of their one together, Liz nods at Ted to go ahead of them so he can pull him away but he hesitates. He can see that this performer has his hips tilted towards their side of the stage just enough to be subtle, but enough to say it’s his cue to get him off the stage and it’s Ted’s one assurance that he’ll be okay to go through with it. Taking a deep breath, he reaches the hook forward enough until it’s around his torso and tugs lightly towards him.

It’s just enough to make him walk exactly two steps to the left before he looks towards the three of them with a frown, keeping up his singing as not to distract the audience.

“Teddy, go for it,” Liz whispers loudly, waving towards the stage. “He wants you to.”

“Are you sure?”

“For God’s sake, yes,” Jo says before she and her sister place their hands over his so all three of them can tug the performer back and send him safely flying backstage.

The audience erupts in laughter and applause once they don’t have to hear his awful vocals anymore, the man coming to land on his hands and knees near the trio with a soft grunt. Before Ted can ask if he’s okay, he’s laughing up at them with, “Finally, I was dying out there!”

“Sorry, Max,” Liz says as she lets go to cross something off her clipboard’s list. “We’ll make it up to you later.”

“I guess we’ll have the good stuff up there then?”

Ted’s confused when the sisters shush him before pointing at him, but he stays quiet as Max realizes he’s there and nods. “I’ll still take that as a yes,” Max says before dusting himself up once he’s on his feet and heading for one of the dressing rooms further back.

Hook duties are regulated back to their usual stagehand, Ted apologizing profusely all the while, but Liz shrugs it off and gives him moving duty instead. Thanks to his height and upper body strength, he’s a huge asset for them in regards to shifting around set dressing and adjusting lights for them. He feels very awkward sometimes around a crew who are clearly a little family and might not want a new face mingling among them, but Liz and Jo are so sweet as they guide him through where to put what that he finds himself relaxing. The latter might be someone he was forced into a friendship with, but not only could Ted certainly do worse, but it seems like the two of them actually enjoy his company by the time the show winds down. He might be able to do what his dad wants in a way he likes after all.

The three of them are left on their own to clean up since the other stagehands and performers seem to be in a rush to get out of the lodge to Liz’s chagrin. Ted assumes it’s because it must be tiring to put yourself out there onstage like that, but the sisters seem a little annoyed to be tasked with running cleanup on their own so he’s more than happy to stick around to help. It’s the least he can do for them being so nice to him despite what a screwup and a weirdo he’s been, especially when they also seem like they want to leave. Taking a chance, he decides to make conversation as he pulls the curtain closed, turning to look at the way they’re cleaning off the vanity with, “Where’d everybody go anyway?”

Jo’s eyes widen briefly before she keeps her eyes on the table, leaving Liz to sigh and say, “The entertainment department lives further out with the other live-in employees in the older cabins near the studio. We have our own little rec hall that sometimes get used for storage and we like to use it to have little get-togethers in. That’s all.”

Ted’s not very bright, but sometimes doesn’t feel right here. “If it’s just a party, why didn’t you let Max talk about it?”

“Well, you see-”

“Oats doesn’t know about them,” Jo interjects quickly, wringing her hands once she’s done cleaning. “Our sort of gatherings aren’t exactly Edgewood-friendly if you know what I mean. It’s not like we’re having any wild sex parties or anything-”

“Jo!”

“We aren’t!”

“You’ll scare Teddy away talking like that,” she says, laughing.

He’s definitely startled, his mind trying not to run with images of decadence and sin so he doesn’t ruin this burgeoning friendship. “Would you guys get fired for that too?”

They nod, Liz being the one to say, “And you absolutely shouldn’t be going. If Captain Logan knew about it, he’d bust it up right away.”

Ted can’t argue with that even without the details, but before he can agree, Jo shrugs haplessly and says, “We could use his help, though.”

“We can deal with getting the food up there on our own,” Liz says, shaking her head. “Everybody’s probably taken care of it already.”

“Can we at least check?”

Liz grumbles, but sighs knowingly in Ted’s direction. “Can you keep all of this a secret?”

Ted’s desire to keep these two satisfied on top of not wanting to spend the month dealing with dirty looks from the staff makes him nod quickly. “I won’t stick around either, that’d be most intrusive.”

They both laugh, Liz shrugging and say, “If you insist! Now c’mon, let’s get in the kitchen.”

As he learns on their journey back to the now empty dining hall, the members of the kitchen staff who are in the know typically leave out selections of the lodge's booze, sweets, and fruit for whoever’s in charge of bringing it that night to carry out. Liz guessed right that most of it was collected beyond some watermelons laid out on the counter, the three of them each taking one to bring out with them up the much too tall staircase. Ted has to admit that despite how steep that staircase is with no way to ground himself against the railing, the still of Edgewood’s grounds at night with no guests in sight and only the sound of crickets and their footsteps filling the air is genuinely relaxing. His anxiety spikes a little over the thrum of the loud music being blasted from the mess hall that only gets louder the closer they get, but he uses how determined the girls are to get there promptly to keep himself calm.

By the time they reach the mess hall, it’s already hard to think over the rock music being played even with the doors closed and Ted’s brow furrows over it. He holds his respective watermelon closer to his chest and asks, “Does it have to be that loud?”

“Of course,” Jo says with a grin. “Better to dance to!”

Ted drums his fingers along the skin of the fruit. “Dance?”

Liz tuts before kicking the doors with her foot to get anyone’s attention, sighing out her thanks once the doors are flung open to the sights and sounds of just about every Edgewood employee between 18-21 in the middle of a rollicking dance party. It’s absolutely nothing like the waltz the older folks in the hall were doing hours ago, sweat-slicked bodies tucked close together as they roll their hips into each other and writhe like they’re in the middle of something much different. There are easily over a dozen couples, all piled together in what’s essentially a large wooden shack filled with now defunct direction signs, empty cots, and a perfectly working jukebox if the clear audio of the Contours' record fueling the fire is any indication. Every walk of life is pressed together in every sort of way and it’s nothing like the WASP-y hierarchy going on among the chaste rich guests, especially once Ted notices a handful of women paired with women and men paired with men.

He feels excited, energized, yet absolutely terrified of the sight before him and he has half a mind to run away as he asks, “Oats really can’t know about this, huh?”

“Not at all,” Liz answers. “The most he’ll let anyone do on the floor is the samba and even then he’s yelled at us for it being too 'suggestive.'”

“We just want a way to have a little fun,” Jo follows up. “And this is it!”

“You can’t expect us to have this big space not being used near us and not have us use it. Now let’s get inside, they’re waiting.”

The sisters move through the floor with ease to the table displaying the spread in the back as they greet people on the way, but Ted feels frozen against the doors once he’s inside and they’re shut behind him. He certainly doesn’t think he’s been led here to be forced into any funny business, but he’s not up to the task of being dragged into any routines. It’s only when a pair of dancers nearby get so wanton that the girl whose legs are wrapped around her partner’s waist arches back with excitement that Ted scurries forward to avoid getting smacked in the face. With the way the guy she’s with is gripping her backside with one hand and petting along her spine with another while they move, he guesses he can’t blame her but it still feels too close for comfort. A few couples he passes are practically necking right in front of everyone and he has to force himself not to look down on them the way his father’s tried to instill in him, knowing he’s only getting so frustrated because it’s all too close and personal for him as he feels like he could get a headache at any second by the time he meets with Jo and Liz in the back.

One of them gets on his case for taking a while, Ted unable to discern who with how overwhelmed he is, but the sound of further excitement when the door’s fling open to reveal a new pair of dancers sprinting through the doorway in costume makes him hyperfocus on what he’s been trying not to think about all night.

There with that meringue instructor in an even more extravagant flamenco dress than she was wearing before on his arm stands Ted’s mystery guy, his curls slicked back and more pronounced. He looks incredibly smug as he immediately drags her to the middle of the floor, his white dress shirt hanging open and nearly exposing his whole torso while the black flamenco pants he has on squeeze over him perfectly. After she wraps her arm snugly around her neck, he gets around her waist and lifts her to spin around, making her laugh and wave at everyone else with her free hand. Ted feels a tug of something he doesn’t understand at the way his guy beams up at her before bringing her back down to get one leg over his waist and get into that grind that seems to be all the rage here.

His arms still full where he watches, he clutches his watermelon tightly against his torso and feels like the wind’s been knocked out of his sails, the sound of Jo’s voice saying, “They are _too_ much,” just barely pulling him out of it.

“Wh-who,” he says dumbly, swallowing at his dry throat when that instructor’s getting spun around again where she rests against him. “Uh, who are they?”

Jo laughs at him, covering her mouth to disguise it, confusing Ted. Liz takes over as she reaches to take his watermelon and says, “Those are Edgewood's lead dance instructors: Missy Wilcox and Bill Preston.”

“Bill _S._ Preston,” Jo corrects with another giggle. “Esquire. He never lets anyone forget it.”

Liz rolls her eyes as she makes sure the group’s table of food looks tidy. “They were scheduled to dance in the hall tonight. I’m surprised you didn’t see them as much as I wouldn’t be surprised if Oats scolded them.”

“We didn’t stay long,” Ted says softly as he watches Bill kiss Missy’s cheek once he sets her down so they can switch off to new partners. He knows that asking this will probably look desperate, but he can’t stop himself as it rushes out of his mouth. “Are they going steady or something?”

He feels a huge pressure he didn’t realize was on his shoulders fizzle out when Jo says, “Not at all,” like the idea sounds ridiculous. “They’re like brother and sister.”

Ted isn’t sure what sort of siblings engage in stuff like this, Missy looking at Bill coyly as her new partner lifts her onto his shoulders to let her show off and twirl her skirt suggestively, but stays quiet as Liz nods. “She’s only just old enough to drink, but his father married her a year and a half ago after his-”

She stops herself, staring down at her hands and shaking her head. “Well either way, it didn’t last long and Bill never liked him anyway, so they ran away once she divorced him.”

“And now they’re here dancing for us,” Jo says, pointing towards them in what Ted assumes is a way to distract him from asking more questions. “They’re way better than Oats lets them be.”

Ted just nods with a soft, “Yeah,” as the bright red unfurling of Missy’s skirt has been too eye-catching for him to notice Bill’s new partner until now. It’s another man who Bill’s in the middle of sliding between his legs on his heels before spinning him around to grind against from behind and the sight is too captivating to keep listening to the sisters gush over him. The two of them appear to be making small talk as they move, Bill managing to make him laugh a few times before kissing his cheek and moving on to a second woman to dance with this time. He and Missy go between various members of the entertainment staff through the rest of the current song and even though Ted can appreciate how close they all seem to be with each other to feel this comfortable together, he’s realizing what it is that’s pulling at his stomach the more he watches Bill sway and slide with ease through the floor.

It’s jealousy, white and hot as he wonders if it would be so bad to let himself dip his toes into all of this.

It feels like the song’s over in no time at all, Ted not minding all that much at the way Bill and Missy are given a huge round of applause for what he remembers is how their performance was meant to be put on tonight. He almost wishes that he and Jo stuck around to see them in their element without the chaotic atmosphere of this hall, but knowing this is what they really want sends a little thrill through him. The terror he first felt coming inside quickly returns, though, when the pair catch sight of their friends across from them and wander over once Missy gasps and points towards them. She’s the one to lead Bill by the hand so she can pull Liz into a hug and say, “There you are!”

Liz squeezes her back, grinning as she says, “We didn’t want to get in the way.”

“Did they leave you a big mess to deal with?”

“That was one part of it,” Jo says while in the middle of her own embrace with Bill who sways to and fro with her before they release each sister. “So how in trouble are you?”

Bill looks pleased with himself, his smile looking even more handsome now that Ted’s only a few inches away from him. “Oats only whistled at us once,” he says, holding up his index finger proudly. “The lift was way too much for him.”

“I told you,” Liz chides gently, shaking her head at him.

“It was totally worth it for how pissed off he got, though,” he laughs, Ted happy to hear the same Valley accent that he has coming out of him even if he feels awkward standing among close friends like this with nothing to add. He thinks about ways to leave without anyone noticing him, but just as he steps to the right to sneak away, Bill’s head turns in his direction. “Hey, who’s this?”

Ted’s jaw drops, letting out an embarrassingly loud shudder of fear, and he feels rescued when Liz perks up and says, “This is Teddy! He came this morning with his father and younger brother to stay for a while.”

Missy frowns where she’s huddled close to Bill. “Oh no, aren’t you that cop’s kid?”

“He’s fine, we promise!”

“Yeah, we had dinner earlier,” Jo agrees. “Not like _that,_ but he’s nothing to worry about.”

Ted’s partly thrilled that Jo officially has no intention on dating him, partly hopeful that now he can appear available if Bill decides to give him the time of day, and partly mortified that he’s being seen as just a kid to someone not all that older than him. He doesn’t really know how to defend himself either, happy to let Liz say, “He’s really nice, guys, you’ll like him,” in lieu of having any retorts.

“Come on, let him speak for himself,” Bill says, a low chuckle coming from his throat that makes Ted’s stomach flip. “So how’s it going, Teddy? What’s the captain’s kid doing here?”

The way Bill doesn’t sound like he’s making fun of him but instead sounds genuinely interested makes Ted feel so much better, smiling softly as he looks him over and says the first thing that comes to his head:

“I carried a watermelon.”

Missy purses her lips, barely holding in laughter as she looks down at her heels while Bill breathes out his own. “Cool. See you around.”

Just as quickly as they came, they turn back to join a line of stomping dancers, the thundering pace of them matching the way Ted’s heart pounds over his stupidity. “Bogus,” he whispers, feeling temporary relief when Liz and Jo laugh sympathetically. “I don’t even _like_ watermelons.”

“Don’t worry about them, they’re good people,” Liz says as she moves behind the concessions table to cut into one of those watermelons. “You don’t have to stay either if you don’t want to - it’s rather late, you can go get some sleep.”

“Maybe I should.”

“We’d love to have you in the department, though, if you want!”

“Yeah, think about it,” Jo says as she joins her sister to pour drinks. “That way you have an excuse to spend time with me so the captain can relax.”

That was an incredible point, Ted agreeing before he says his goodbyes and steadies himself to find the most optimal trail out of the hall without having to touch anybody. Thankfully there’s a little more room this time since the current song is a little slower-paced, so he’s able to get halfway through with ease. He turns around to give one last little wave to his new friends and intends to get out right then, but just as he reaches the line, he feels a hand grip his wrist and pull him back. Ted cries out over it, snatching his arm away and spinning around as he gets ready to tell whoever it off only to manage to get, “Hey, what,” out before he’s blindsided for a much different reason.

Bill waves at him, looking sheepish where he stands separate from Missy and the others. “Sorry, did I scare you?”

“No,” Ted lies quickly, shaking his head even faster to try to repair his image. “But I gotta get back to my cabin.”

“I won’t make you stay all night,” Bill says, his voice barely audible over the jukebox. “I just want one dance. Is that okay?”

Ted thinks about lying again about his dancing skills in a sudden desperation to impress him, but he’ll only embarrass himself more if he does. He also couldn’t bear being any sort of dishonest to anybody, let alone to Bill who’s somehow still interested in talking to him as he waits for an answer. “Yeah, but I can’t.”

“Can’t stay or can’t dance?”

“Um, both?”

“Anybody can dance,” Bill says incredulously before taking his hands and pulling him closer. “They just gotta learn how first. Here, like this-”

Bill stops to roll his hips towards him with a little smirk, making Ted shiver and try to move back. That just makes Bill laugh and say, “It’s okay,” before doing it again and slower this time. “Just find the rhythm and it’s easy.”

Ted looks down at where their hands are still linked, nervous as he weakly rolls forward towards him. “Like that?”

Bill shrugs. “Pretty much,” he says, doing it again a few more times with his eyes focused on him. “Go for it, Teddy, you can do it.”

It hits him suddenly that this is another guy he’s doing this with, his hips twitching awkwardly as he tries to follow him. This is the last place he’ll be judged for it, but he can hear jeers from his father about “types like that” as he moves, so he licks at his suddenly dry lips and says, “I don’t know, I’m really bad at it.”

“Just listen,” Bill says softly, wrapping his hand around his waist and guiding him to meet him in time with the beat before letting go when Ted stops and jolts over it. “Sorry. We can stop, it’s no problem.”

Ted’s tempted to run back to the cabin, feeling way in over his head at the thought of rubbing against Bill as closely as Missy had, way faster than he thought he’d ever be with someone he barely knows. Bill’s other hand is still wrapped around his, soft in its grip against him, and he stares at it while trying to think of what to do. The way Bill starts to let go pulls him out of his stupor, though, acting on pure impulse when he tugs it back with, “No. I-I want to try.”

Bill raises his eyebrows. “Yeah?”

Ted nods. “Yeah.”

Bill waits until Ted nods a second time to bring his hand back to his hip, slowly moving Ted towards him to get him used to it. They both look down over the way they meet, Ted trying not to think about the heat of Bill’s palm radiating on his waist against his own dress shirt. After they graduate from moving back and forth to rolling in little circles together, Ted bites his lip and brings his other arm up to rest on Bill’s shoulder to signal that he’s got it and Bill laughs softly over it before drifting his hand to rest on the small of back instead. “You really want to go for it?”

“Maybe?”

Ted tries not to gasp out over the way Bill’s hand leaves his back for just a second to tip his chin up to look at him before wrapping around him again. “You can say no.”

That sweetness that's overwhelming him even though his caution just makes Ted shake his head and say, “I say yes.”

“Alright,” Bill says, getting his whole arm snug around his waist. “You’re a most vertically-inclined individual so this is gonna be a little hard, but follow me.”

After a few more normal hip rolls, Bill grins and brings one leg forward while he drags Ted up just enough to rest against his thigh. When he’s finally unable to hold in his gasp, Bill lets Ted rest there while he collects himself and stares down at the way he’s actually straddling the guy that’s been on his mind almost the entire day. Ted knows his face must be as red as the light beaming down on them, trying everything he can not to think about activities and words that he’s not supposed to in public, but it’s hard when he’s wrapped up in the star of those thoughts. Yet that ever gentle way Bill looks up at him and asks, “Still okay?” is enough to keep him grounded, enough to get a steady grip around his neck and nod so Bill can tug him forward.

It’s not perfect to start, the handful of inches Ted has over Bill making it a little difficult for Bill to guide him, but once they settle into an easy rhythm it feels incredible. Ted’s acutely aware of a crowd gathering around them to watch even as he can still hear their tapping feet over the music, but even those sounds start to fade away in favor of his own heartbeat. He’s thankful, of course, that he’s still a bundle of nerves with the heat of the room and the vibrations from the commotion against his feet so he doesn’t have to worry about having a reaction to his crotch against Bill’s thigh. The way Bill’s hands are never too tight while he brings his hips forward makes him feel so safe, though, especially when he guides him to arch back briefly just like that first couple he saw. There’s something so freeing about letting loose that way that it’s Ted who initiates it the second time, rolling back and around as he leans back and holds onto Bill for dear life. As he lets himself do that every few swivels, Ted feels so thrilled to be away from the prying eyes from his normal life that he doesn’t notice the way he’s finally shaken out his ponytail and sent the elastic band holding it falling to the floor once he comes up one final time as the song ends.

Still holding him as they pant to catch their breaths while everyone claps around them, Bill stares up at him and whispers, “Whoa.”

Shaking his bangs out of his face on impulse, Ted whispers back, “What?”

Bill grins again. “Not bad.”

For the first time since he arrived at the lodge, Ted finds himself genuinely smiling back, unable to stop himself from giggling in taken aback glee over what he’s let himself do. He thinks about staying where he is and going for another round, nearly saying so before Bill’s face changes suddenly. He looks lost as he looks him over and Ted can’t understand it when he helps guide him back to stand properly before he hurriedly says, “I gotta go. Maybe we'll see each other again sometime?”

“Uh,” Ted sighs out just as quickly. “Yeah, um, but Bill-”

“G’night, Teddy.”

And just like that, Bill disappears into the herd of dancers behind them, the sound of cheers blasting Ted in his eardrums and making him hug his arms around his waist. He doesn’t bother putting his hair back up when he collects his hairtie and puts it around his wrist instead, not bothering to look back until he’s reached the entrance. When he flings it open, he thinks he can see Bill’s curls in the midst of sweaty bodies, but that’s all and enough to make him slam the doors behind him. He’s blown it again, he has to have with the way he got too excited over dancing with Bill and he never should’ve agreed to it. It’s not the fact that he’s another guy that could’ve scared him, that he’s certain of with the way he was parading around with just about everybody in that building. Ted just let himself get too excited like he always does with something new he likes the way he’s done with his records, his comics, and all the other stuff that Dad thinks is too frivolous and unbecoming.

His father is thankfully fast asleep just like Deacon is once he finally reaches the cabin and sneaks his way inside; he absolutely doesn’t want to deal with explaining all of this right now. Too tired physically and emotionally from the night’s events, Ted forgoes changing into pajamas in favor of just undressing down to his briefs and flopping into bed before huffing into the pillow. At least he’s made two real friends in Jo and Liz, but he wants more now that he’s tasted it and seen how amazing what he’s been raised to think is detestable really is. He wants to go back to the main stage and help with lights and maybe even help build sets so he can make the girls happy. He wants to see rehearsals and know exactly what the performers put into the process to put a successful show on. Most importantly, he thinks as he tries to ignore the press and pull in the pit of his stomach over the phantom feeling of Bill’s arms wrapping around him, Ted wants to see if they actually will see each other again sometime.

Knowing just how much every faction of the department intertwines, maybe there’ll be even more benefits to come from working for them after all.


	2. Where Are You Tonight?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI HELLO I AM FINALLY UPDATING THIS AGAIN. A lot of shit happened between when I first started this and now with my personal life and other brainworms, but now I'm back! And I swear I'll update more frequently even with some more worms coming in between chapters sometimes. As always, follow me @ohwhoadude on twitter if you want real time updates on this and other stuff I'm doing (although 18+ only please!). Alright off we go:

It’s around six in the morning when Bill slides out of bed and stretches before padding out onto his deck to bask in the dewy fog of the morning.

The still of the air is such a stark contrast to the usual cacophony of guests and music during the afternoons and nights that he always makes himself bask in it when he first wakes up. The live-in employee cabins are far enough away from the lodge that they can never quite see the lake, but as he lets the chill cool off his bare torso, Bill can still hear its wildlife. The crickets, the frogs, and the looms all greet him as he leans against the railing and he wishes he could stay here for a while instead of facing the usual slog of the day. Once he’s eaten and showered, he’ll have to head to the studio for an early lesson with an extremely rich client before dealing with rehearsals for he and Missy’s next gig; that’s not even covering having to deal with the guests tonight in the gazebo. He’s truly happy that he actually gets to make money dancing, but he has to wonder if he could just _be_ for a full day instead.

And what makes it worse is that he can’t stop thinking about Teddy.

He’s all limbs, like an awkward giraffe with how he stands and speaks, but Bill couldn’t help but pull him close last night. Teddy’s got the prettiest brown eyes he’s ever seen, warm and inviting even when they’re wide in apprehension like they were once Bill got him moving. His gentle voice made him want to spend all night talking to him and his soft hands that were so much bigger than his made him want to keep them wrapped in his so he could teach him every step he knows. Missy was right to be cautious around Teddy because of his dad, Bill knows that, but he can feel there’s something hiding under there ready to be let out. He could help him - he could take him in his arms, bury his face in his neck and get him moving before he lets himself guide those kissable pink lips to his and-

Do everything that came to him in a rush so suddenly once he literally let his hair down that he had to leave right after showing him a few moves or else he’d make an ass of himself. Most heinous.

Bill couldn’t find Teddy after that and he doesn’t blame him; he doesn’t feel great about flaking out as he heads back inside to start making breakfast, but it was totally necessary. Missy thankfully didn’t really bring it up aside from asking him why he didn’t keep dancing with him, making him not feel like a total jerk even as it was clear that she thought he made a stupid decision. Letting himself get caught up in this guy would be the actual stupid decision, though, so Bill embraces the fact that there’s no way he’ll be seeing Teddy again beyond occasionally passing him on the grounds or seeing him in the audience during a routine. He was scared enough for the fifteen minutes he was inside the hall as it is, he’s definitely not gonna be around again; he can’t for his sake with a cop for a dad.

Neither should he for Bill’s for that matter.

After he’s gotten through his morning routine, Bill heads to the dance studio to plod through his appointment with Audrey Moore, the daughter of one of Oats’ top financiers. She’s a voluptuous, brassy brunette who isn’t completely stiff during their lessons, but even if she was he’d still have to swallow his pride and go along with it. Her father has a high stake in Edgewood’s group of shareholders and as Oats put it when he announced to Bill that he was to take her on as a client, “It would be an awful shame if either of them were to become upset over your teachings,” so Bill basically had no choice. Audrey’s at least always been nice to him whenever Monday morning comes around so it’s not like he’s dealing with crotchety old Georgia Barker from his Tuesday afternoons or snooty little Emily Elliott from his Thursday evenings. The only issue is that sometimes she tries way too hard to get his attention; he’s flattered by her fawning, sure, but Bill has zero intention of taking her up on any offers to join him for lunch or sneak off to the woods for “private night lessons.” She’s his client, after all, which was totally inappropriate and weird on top of him just plain not wanting anything to do with her posh, privileged lifestyle. He has many types, but a spoiled rich girl isn’t one of them and may he be fired right now if he’s ever expected to go along with it.

Usually, though, he can get off easy by just coyly turning her down through small empty promises. As he dips her in the middle of a basic waltz, Audrey giggles before coming back up and saying, “I can’t wait to do this at the social later. Daddy’s gonna be there, y’know.”

“Excellent,” he replies casually while carefully spinning her around. “He’ll get to see how good you are.”

“Actually I was hoping to introduce you,” she says, placing her hand over his heart once they’re facing each other again. “I mean, _properly_ introduce you this time. You know?”

Bill chuckles, trying not to shake his head at her; he’s just teaching her to dance, not going steady. “We’ll see, Audrey. I’m gonna have to dance with a most absurd amount of people, so raincheck?”

He’s not completely lying, having to mingle among the guests as another incentive for them to pay for lessons, but he knows he has no intention of interacting with them beyond that. Thankfully, though, Audrey just nods and smiles with, “Sounds swell, Bill. Let’s hope for clear skies, though, huh?”

Bill just nods back and continues their waltz, hoping for a thunderstorm instead.

He gets his pay for the morning once it’s over and heads back home to stash it away before making his way down to the beach where Liz, Missy and the rest of the dancers have a lunch meeting planned. Every Monday, Liz makes her way through each faction of the entertainment department to go over the events for the week and pinpoint who will be doing what, the first big event of the week being tonight’s outdoor social. The plan is for Bill and Missy to be the ones representing them as the main instructors with whoever volunteers ready to stand in for them if necessary with little performances for the others sprinkled in throughout the week until their two leaders of sorts head for the Zephyr Cove Lounge ten minutes north for their own gig next Monday night. They’re both extremely lucky that Oats likes them enough to let them take money from other establishments, Bill not taking any of it for granted since it was on Missy’s recommendation alone that their boss even allowed his 19-year-old self to be an instructor in the first place. That luck carries him now since as he reaches their usual picnic table, he still hasn’t seen the one person he’s desperate to avoid for now, too relieved to mind when Missy playfully nudges him and says, “Finally free of the little rich girl, huh?”

“For now,” he answers before nudging her back.

“Don’t let Mr. Moore hear you talking like that,” Liz says from where she’s unloading a basket of food for the group. “You can deal with her for a few more hours later.”

“Most regrettably.”

Liz narrows her eyes at him. “Most imperatively.”

Bill lets Missy’s snort act as his response.

Everyone manages to act on their best behavior during the meeting, Liz’s meal good enough to keep anyone from fidgeting over how old-fashioned she’s insisting they be on Oats’ orders. Bill’s still hot under the collar over their superior snapping his fingers and whistling at him and Missy like they were dogs last night when he lifted her leg to rest against his shoulder and started to drag her along the floor. It was incredibly foolish to them since her skirt was folded in a way where she wasn’t on display or even showed her inner thighs, but it had been enough for them to be reigned in and forced to dance politely with various guests instead. Sure they got some nice tips from anyone who thought they performed well, but it was a simple samba; it wasn’t like they were doing everything they keep under wraps out there. Bill knows Liz has been trying her best to get him to let them get spicier since the lodge’s turnout of younger patrons has been shrinking each year so he’s not upset at any other higher-up’s, but he still can’t help but feel frustrated at yet another insistence that he keep it clean tonight. He lets himself stare out at everyone running around on the sand before them to calm his nerves, some of those rare younger patrons being what catches his eye.

A group of six teen boys are embroiled in an intense game of soccer on the shore and they’re definitely not the type who would get anything out of an interesting dance routine, but they do seem dangerously close to kicking their ball into their table so Bill makes himself focus on them. One of the boys in the middle starts balancing it on his foot to show off, smirking even as he’s getting yelled at to quit hogging the ball. Deacon, as Bill quickly figures out his name is, just rolls his eyes and kicks it upward before navigating it towards one of the goals as he says, “Alright, keep your shorts on!”

He nails it perfectly, making one of the other boys next to him smack him on the back and say, “Nice one!”

Deacon just looks smug while the next round starts, immediately honing in on making another goal and bumping into one of his opponents when he charges for the ball. Since it was already being kicked, it sends it flying sideways where it narrowly avoids smacking the person sitting across from them on the grass in the face. After the boys are sure they’re okay, Deacon sighs and snickers. “C’mon, Teddy, kick it back!”

Bill’s face turns bright red.

Sure enough when he gets a good look, it’s _that_ Teddy who’s sitting there with a book in his lap and a pencil in his hand while he looks up at them like a deer caught in headlights. He’s got his hair up which is sweet mercy for Bill who's caught up in the slope of his brow as it furrows while he says, “Hold on!”

Instead of kicking it, Teddy picks the ball up from where it landed at his side and tosses it to them. He’s got a hell of an arm, the way it lands in Deacon’s arms making him let out a soft grunt even while he scoffs. “I said kick it - you’re supposed to _kick_ soccer balls.”

“I know that, Deacon” Teddy says defensively. “But I can’t scuff these shoes!”

Deacon rolls his eyes, but nods. “Whatever, dude,” he says before turning back to his friends and resuming the game.

Bill doesn’t bother following the boy’s movements in favor of watching Teddy move to run his fingers over the side of one leather shoe. It’s much too nice of a pair to wear out like he is and Bill can only assume it’s on his father’s orders with how stringent he’s being about it. Once he’s satisfied with the state of them, though, the sweetest little smile spreads across his face and he’s back in his book scribbling something down. The department meeting is still happening and Bill knows he’s gotta pay attention, but the dusting of freckles across Teddy’s cheeks and nose are all he can look at. He noticed them last night when they were up close and dancing, but now he can really focus on them and how his skin’s shimmering in the sunlight. All Bill wants to do is leave the meeting and stroll over to sit with him; he wants to apologize for running out on him, maybe even see what he’s up to over there. The main thing Bill wants is just to hear Teddy’s voice again and see him smile for him instead because that way maybe-

“Hello? Where are you, Bill?”

The sound of Missy’s voice next to him pulls him away from his thoughts and he frowns. “I’m right here?”

Missy laughs and shakes her head. “Yeah, you and I are the only ones left too. Let’s go.”

That’s when it occurs to Bill that the meeting has ended, the two of them indeed being the only ones still sitting at the table while Liz clears it off. He looks around their area of the beach for Jo, Max, or anyone else from the group and can’t find a trace of anyone else which makes him frown at Missy and ask, “When did the meeting end?”

“Five minutes ago,” she says, still laughing. “Where _were_ you?”

“I don’t know.” Bill shrugs, having no idea to get out of this beyond grinning at her and saying, “Just enjoying the most picturesque beachside, that’s all.”

“Sure,” Missy says, clearly humoring him as she stands up and gestures towards where Teddy’s sitting. “And look who it is!”

“Oh yeah uh,” Bill starts before letting himself look at Teddy again and trying his best to pretend it’s the first time he’s noticed him. “That cop’s kid from last night.”

The huff Missy lets out sounds like she’s onto him, but she just shakes her head and waves at Liz as she heads off and down the beach. She squints at Bill too while clutching her clipboard close and it almost feels like she’s taunting him when she stops once she reaches Teddy to sit next to him with a bright smile. Bill feels bad for him when he jumps at first before grinning back when he realizes who it is; he can’t imagine how on edge Teddy must be constantly with a police chief for a father. Maybe he’s being a little selfish hoping that Teddy joins the department so he can have more chances to see him, but he also has to figure that it would be good for him instead of dealing with his family all day - at least that's how he reasons with himself that he's not a total hypocrite for changing his mind after accepting his fate earlier that morning anyway.

Just as he swears he can see Liz jotting something down on her clipboard while they’re talking, though, Missy’s tugging on the sleeve of his t-shirt so he can get up and saying, “C’mon, hotshot - we have practice and he’s busy. You can dance with him later.”

“Who said I want to dance with him?”

“You were having fun doing that last night unless that was another Bill Preston I saw.”

Bill smirks once he’s on his feet and raises his arms in a shrug. “There _is_ no other Bill S. Preston. Esq-”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it,” Missy says, clearly teasing as they start heading away from the beach to make their way to the studio. “He’ll probably be on a tight leash tonight anyway. So will we.”

The disappointment in her voice is heavy, matching his as he knows that Oats will be just a few feet away for the entirety of the social. They have nothing but simple waltzes and tangos in their future tonight and the slight chance that Teddy will be out there is the only nice thing about it. He lets himself look back once so he can get one last glimpse of Teddy who’s now looking over Liz’s itinerary with her before he faces forward again and says, “Are you getting Mr. Moore?”

“Probably,” she sighs wistfully once they reach the main trail. “At least he’s not weird, he just talks a lot.”

“Guess that’s where Audrey gets it, huh?”

Missy laughs even brighter this time, saying, “You’re right - we gotta get this out of system now before- _ah!”_

Bill stops once Missy lets out that pained gasp and bends down to clutch at her right calf, both of them staring down at her feet once she stays still. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m okay,” she says while bending down further to lightly run her fingers along her ankle. “I think I stepped on it funny last night at the hall, but it’s fine.”

“Are you sure you can practice?”

“Of course!”

Bill purses his lips, running through every step they went through last night to pinpoint what might’ve done this. They landed the leg lift last night perfectly in front of Oats and did it a second time at the hall, but with the rush of excitement and people on the secret floor, it’s always a little hard to tell who’s doing what with who. “You gotta promise me, Missy - I am most definitely not gonna hurt you if I can help it.”

Missy tuts as she unbuckles her heels, but smiles and pats his cheek all the same once they’re off. “You won’t hurt me, I promise,” she says before holding them up and pointing towards the studio in the distance. “I’ll just keep these off today and it’ll be fine.”

“We’re gonna leave out all the twirls and hops too for utmost safety.”

“If you insist.”

“I _do_ insist,” Bill says, outright giggling at how petulant she’s being. “We’re both the most excellent leaders of the dance team, so I should have a say in what we do.”

Missy narrows her eyes at him, but shrugs and says, “You’re right, we should be careful. Thanks, Bill.”

“You’re welcome, Missy.”

She pats his cheek again before they head off, Bill taking extra care to watch for any limping or extra signs of pain on the way there. It seems like Missy’s out of the woods during the walk, but he still politely demands that they only work on the easiest steps of the routine this afternoon for what’s supposed to be a rather complicated performance. They’ve both done the mambo plenty of times before with each other and various guests for lessons, but this routine that they’ve dubbed _Mambo Magic_ combines the best of it with a little extra. Missy’s getting spun all over the stage that night before it all cultivates into a more unique lift than they’ve done before. They’ve done that leg drag plenty of times and he’s spun her around high before, but this performance’s main crescendo before its flashy ending will feature Missy getting suspended in the air for a full ten seconds as she rests on his palms. They’ve worked their way up to seven seconds in the past couple weeks and intend to master extra three before the end of the week.

Suffice it to say, though, the way Missy lags behind a considerable amount up the stairs leading to the studio due to her ankle is enough to tell them that they won’t be starting today.

The rehearsal goes decently well save for Missy occasionally needing to take more breaks than they usually do. Since they love going for hours to get their routines down with only a couple stops to spare, Missy having to sit out multiple times to stretch and watch Bill work on the steps by himself makes him anxious. He knows she can take care of herself and doesn’t need to be doted on; the brief time his father had her hand in marriage taught him that well enough, but Missy’s been his only family for some time now. What’s his business is hers - when she hurts, he hurts, and he’s not going to push her to go harder just because every single gig counts for them.

Money is money, but the health of the woman who inspired him to have some sort of passion that wasn’t waiting around to inherit his dad’s business will always come first.

Bill tries not to give her any shit for the way she’s obviously trying not to hobble away to her cabin once they’re finished, knowing she’ll at least stay in there and rest before the social. Taking care of her is an amazing distraction from thinking about his near miss with Teddy, anyway; the way he lit up at the attention from Liz has been on repeat in his mind ever since they left the beach and he’s still seeing his smile while he relaxes in his own cabin. It’s nearly identical to the one he flashed him last night in his arms and Bill hopes that the promise of joining the department is the only reason Teddy looked so happy to see Liz.

Although at the end of the day, Bill reasons once it’s time to put on his best suit so he can head out and entertain, he was the one Teddy danced with and the one who got him to let loose. Jo wasn’t interested in him and Teddy didn’t even look at them when he came over with Missy; there has to be something here and maybe he’s got a shot. He knows he’s not technically supposed to think of guests this way, but it’s so hard when this one is so stuck in his head. Maybe it’ll be a relief if he’s kept from him or even if he doesn’t show up at all.

He should, of course, be so lucky when just a few minutes into the social starting once he, Liz, and Missy have arrived to set everything up, Capt. Logan arrives with his sons in tow to make a beeline for Oats who’s already waiting for them.

Oats is naturally leaning against one wall of the gazebo chatting it up with Mr. Moore and two other investors in the lodge who are just as clean-cut and just as broad-looking as Oats is. Bill doesn’t know their names, only retaining company info that affects him directly, but they’re clearly important with their suits that make his own black ensemble look like rags and their cigars that they mercifully aim to not get smoke on everyone else. The police chief straddles up and fits in immediately as he grabs his own cigar and lights up. Teddy and Deacon, clad in very basic dress wear, instinctively move away from the smoke which makes Bill chuckle to himself where he’s in the middle of a gentle samba. He can see that Deacon’s antsy to get out and dance but has to stay for pleasantries with the adults for now and he feels bad for him. If Bill strains, he can hear his dad saying something about baseball and a great home run pitch which is pretty unsurprising after seeing his beach activities. Deacon finally perks up at that and joins the conversation to probably brag about it, but Bill tunes it out once he sees the way Teddy’s staring at his shoes like he wants to escape. The idea of going over and giving him the chance to is most tempting, wondering if he’d let him teach him how to waltz out here in front of everyone instead of-

“What’s wrong, Bill?”

The way that Audrey sounds just a little angry with him makes him quickly turn his gaze back on her, giving her a toothy grin before spinning her around as he says, “Nothin’ at all, why?”

She sighs dreamily when he dips her, calming him down even as she says, “You just want to make sure Daddy’s not watching too hard, I bet. He’s not _that_ overprotective, don’t worry.”

“Oh yeah, uh - I’m sure he’s not, I’m just,” he starts, letting his eyes drift up to see the way Teddy’s now smiling awkwardly at Oats while Capt. Logan speaks and gestures towards him. “Being most attentive, y’know?”

Audrey smiles and raises her hand to pinch his cheek. “Don’t worry, Bill - he likes you just fine.”

As if on cue, Audrey’s father waves towards them and says, “Looks like my money’s goin’ to a good cause, Mr. Preston!”

“Most incredibly,” Bill calls back as Audrey snuggles in closer while they sway. “She’s a great dancer!”

Considering that she’s stepped on his foot three times tonight, everyone outside beyond the Moore family knows he’s lying, but Mr. Moore still laughs triumphantly and gives him a thumb’s up.

“See,” Audrey says as she gets her arms around her neck. “He really does like you.”

Bill just nods, looking back up to see the way that entire group is watching the floor now since Deacon’s finally managed to escape and mingle with the other kids his age there. Oats is in the middle of pointing out areas of the grounds where he'd like to make some expansions as Moore and the investors smile and nod, but Bill hones in on Capt. Logan instead. He’s in the middle of talking to Teddy and pointing at the floor, but Teddy looks like he’s trying to inch further against their end of the gazebo. It’s clear that he’s trying to be swayed into finding someone to dance with and Bill damn near lets go of Audrey to walk over and guide him, but the quick way Teddy shakes his head as he speaks to his father makes him stop.

Not to mention the way Bill turns to see Oats frowning and waving towards him as he calls out to him and asks, “Where's Miss Wilcox?”

Bill frowns back, turning around to look for Missy once he remembers she’s meant to dance with Mr. Moore tonight. “Isn’t she here?”

Oats huffs. “Doesn’t seem like it to me.”

He knows Missy was dancing with little old Mr. Cochran just a few minutes ago, but as he keeps looking, she’s nowhere to be found. “Uh, I don’t know. Maybe she’s-”

“She’s taking a break, Mr. Oats,” Liz chimes in suddenly from where she stands at the record player currently spinning some musack-y sounding jazz, nodding towards the sight of another one of the female dancers, a short but domineering redhead in Tiffany, sprinting up the stairs to act as her stand-in. “She’ll be back in a little while.”

“Fair enough,” Oats says plainly before smirking at his friends, not bothering to keep his voice low for his final assessment. “Let’s see how long that actually is, shall we?”

The way everyone but Teddy laughs makes Bill’s blood boil even as Audrey starts rambling on about how pretty Missy is or something. He figures it’s probably some jealous comment with how much they have to work together, but he’s too concerned with the brief flash of disdain on Teddy’s face at the older man while his father’s back is turned to care. Bill keeps his eyes on him to see if he gets noticed and reprimanded, but Capt. Logan ignores him in favor of taking another puff of his cigar. It reminds him of the way his own dad seemed flippant about he and Missy’s plans to leave and start dancing and it breaks his heart.

It feels like a beacon of light when Teddy looks back at the floor and sees Bill watching him, his eyes going wide as he bounces on his feet. It gets brighter when Bill mouths, “Hi,” at him and Teddy finally smiles genuinely with his own mouthed greeting back.

“Well, do you?”

Bill looks down to see Audrey looking up at him expectantly. “Huh?”

“Do you like Missy like that?”

Bill can’t help but laugh at how absurd the question is without needing a lick of context. “Trust me, I don’t,” he says confidently even while trying not to wince at how Teddy’s smile must’ve dropped over losing his eyes on him. “I, uh - I think I like somebody else.”

The grin on Audrey’s face is almost menacing. “Do you really?”

“Yeah,” Bill says while he looks back up in Teddy’s general direction so Audrey can think he’s looking at Mr. Moore. “I think I do.”

He can only wonder if Teddy feels the same way.

As the night goes on, Bill does end up having to interact with Audrey’s father like she wanted and the brief chitchat is curt and straightforward. With Oats just a couple feet away, the pressure to be as sweet and charming as he can be is heavy on his mind, especially while he hears Capt. Logan sternly speaking to Teddy. If he strains, he can hear him asking for assurance that Teddy would be dancing with Jo if she were around and the small way Teddy swears he would makes Bill wonder how long he would go to jail for if he punched a police officer. There’s no way he actually would; popping his dad in the mouth is a terrible second impression for the boy Bill finds himself really wanting to impress, but he still thinks about it. 

Things start to wind down once the investors start heading out towards the banquet hall, Audrey joining her father with a wave and a wink to Bill that he returns weakly as he watches Liz trying not to get her feathers ruffled by Oats. The way she rolls her eyes and sticks her tongue out once he has his back turned to her makes Bill laugh, not minding when Capt. Logan gives him an odd look while going past him to join them. He’s content to join Liz and the others to start cleaning up, but the way Teddy’s not following him makes him go still where he crouches to pick up the records laying against the edge.

Capt. Logan turns then, squinting at Teddy and saying, “I’ll be with Sid for a little while longer - make sure Deacon gets home if you can manage it.”

“Yes, sir,” Teddy says meekly, looking forlorn as he looks around the gazebo. “But I don’t see-”

“Exactly. Find him.”

Capt. Logan leaves it at that, making Bill scoff; Deacon probably just ran off with his friends for a while, so there’s no need to get so stern about it with his oldest. Once he, Liz, and Teddy are the only ones left in the gazebo with Tiffany also taking her leave back to the employee grounds, he can’t help but watch the way that Teddy peers over the edge to look out into the night. Teddy’s hair’s up in a sweet little bun behind him this time and there’s a single strand peaking out that Bill wants to smooth between his fingertips. He knows he shouldn't get involved, but he can’t help but feel bad for him when he hears him call out for his brother before huffing and shaking his head.

“He’ll turn up,” Liz says above him where she’s shutting her record player and putting it away in its storage case. “You should check the diamond. Some of those boys like to sneak off to try to play late night games.”

“I can’t see anybody there,” Teddy sighs, peering forward even more to look at the empty field drenched in lights. “Dad’s gonna kill me if I’m not back with him.”

Liz looks down at Bill knowingly although he’s not sure what it is she knows. “We could help you, Teddy,” she says while still glaring at him with her eyebrows raised. “If you want us to.”

“No way.”

“And why not? We want to.”

Teddy shakes his head, making that bun wave around wildly. “He’ll just get mad if he knows I didn’t do it on my own. You guys are busy anyway.”

Bill wants to leave it there, not wanting to get him in trouble, but Liz keeps staring at him expectantly. He doesn’t know what she’s trying to prove, but time with Teddy does sound nice so he makes himself stand up, hand off the records to Liz to slot away in her case, straighten out the suit of his jacket and take a deep breath before he says, “I’m not busy, I can-”

_Crack!_

The whole trio jumps, shouts, or both at the shrieking howl of firecrackers in the distance that’s followed by the kind of riotous laughter that only teenage boys can produce. When they turn towards the wooded area a few yards behind them, out comes the group of them that are to blame with Deacon among them, and Liz sighs and says, “Looks like we’ve found him.”

“Most heinous,” Teddy says as he sprints down the stairs to chase after them, but not before turning back to look at Liz. “Oh wait! What time should I come to the lodge tomorrow?”

“Whenever you finish breakfast,” Liz chuckles out with a shrug. “You’ll be getting your own proper tour.”

The way Teddy grins when he says how excellent that is and says his goodbyes makes Bill want to follow him on his way even as he shouts Deacon’s name again. At the very least, though, Bill now has confirmation that Teddy’s joining the entertainment department and it makes him feel downright giddy as he gets back to cleaning. Taking the lights down from the awning makes him think about them getting to know each other while he builds sets. Sweeping away any discarded cups or cigarette butts makes him think of ways he could make him laugh while they clear the stage during rehearsals.

Knowing he’ll get to see Teddy more frequently scares him a little, not wanting to act like an idiot in front of him, but what it really does is-

“Bill, Liz, come quick!”

He looks up from where he’s made a stack of cups to see Jo running onto the gazebo in a frenzy looking terrified and it's then that he realizes a certain someone never came back. “What happened?”

“It’s Missy,” she pants out while making a beeline for her sister to try to tug her away. “She came back to the cabins for her break complaining about her ankle again and left fifteen minutes after so I thought she came back but-”

“But what,” Liz demands, cutting her off. “What happened?”

Jo shakes her head. “She’s lying on the stairs. I don’t know how long she’s been there and I can’t get her up by myself, so help. Please.”

Bill had already started running out of the gazebo and towards that direction the second Jo said where Missy was, but he still manages to catch all of it and wants to scream not only over how stupid he was to let something silly like a crush make him forget about her whereabouts, but over how many people could’ve missed her. For all he knows, people actively _wanted_ to miss her in pain where she lay and he hopes that Oats and his cronies didn’t do the same once he reaches the end of the trail leading towards the studio. “Missy!”

He can see her clutching at the railing where she’s crumpled in a heap halfway down the staircase and he sighs in relief when she calls his name back and cries, “Where’s Jo and Liz?!”

“They’re coming,” he yells as he skips a few skips on his way up until he’s able to sit on his haunches and look over the way she’s gripping her leg just above her now swollen ankle. “When did you fall, did you break it?”

“I don’t know,” she whimpers while trying to stretch it out, letting out a pained gasp when she hits her limit. “Maybe I just sprained it, but I haven’t been out long, I promise.”

He knows that’s not true, a full hour having gone by since Oats asked him where she was. “Don’t lie, Missy, you don’t gotta do that with me.”

“It’s okay, Bill - I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“You’re lucky you are.” He frowns when she laughs softly in time with the sisters running up to meet them. “What’s so funny?”

Missy musters up a smile as she lets the arm she was presumably trying to use to pull herself up down. “Now you sound like _my_ step-mom.”

Bill rolls his eyes at her, but still gently takes her hands so he can guide her to wrap her arms around his neck before he starts to scoop her up and says, “Come on, let’s get you in the hall.”

He waits until Jo and Liz are close by to start carrying her up so he doesn’t have to wait too long for Liz to open the hall for him so they can get the first aid kit inside. Edgewood’s medical staff is on call 24/7 so they won’t have to wait forever to get her properly looked at, but he still wants to do what he can to soothe her now while they wait. Once the doors have been unlocked and Jo turns to run as fast as she can muster to get to the staff’s quarters, Liz runs to set everything up as Bill gently lays Missy along the wicker couch set against a case of forgotten knickknacks, making sure she’s got a pillow tucked under her head as he does. The sounds of Liz preparing an icepack for her calms him down as he notices her eyes start to well up with tears. “You’re gonna be okay. We’ll take care of you.”

“Thank you both,” she says shakily. “Oats is probably really pissed I didn’t come back, isn’t he?”

“He’s way too busy trying to squeeze more money out of his odious friends to get mad at anybody.”

“But he noticed, he had to have.”

“And Liz and Tiffany took care of it,” Bill says as he pushes her bangs away from her face once he’s sat on his knees neck to her. “Now Oats is probably drinking way too much with Audrey’s dad and those others boneheads.”

Liz hums in agreement while she heads over to pull up a chair and sit at the opposite end of the couch. “You’re not getting fired for something so silly on my watch,” she says before carefully guiding Missy’s foot up and tutting quietly when Missy winces. “I have to take these off, I’m sorry.”

She points at the sparkling pink high heel that Missy somehow still has on to match with the equally sequined gown she’s wearing, making Missy nod sadly. “Just be careful.”

Bill holds Missy’s hand while Liz does her best to be just that, making his own wince at how much she squeezes it over it with how long it takes. Her foot and ankle are just that swollen which Liz points out before she gently places that icepack over them and says, “It has to be sprained. She can’t dance like this, you know that.”

“No way,” he agrees, squeezing back in sympathy. “Not until it’s patched up.”

The gasp Missy lets out over that startles him, but it’s overshadowed by the way his heart breaks when she shakes her head violently and says, “No, we have that gig next week!”

“So we’ll cancel it.”

“No, we won’t!”

“Darling, you have to,” Liz soothes as she gets the other heel off. “Zephyr Cover’s management will understand, I’m sure of it.”

“And then we lose money,” Missy protests as the tears start to fall from her face. “We need that for our shows _here,_ you know Oats won’t fork over more cash.”

“So I’ll talk to him.”

“Yeah, a lot of good that’s done before.”

A brief flash of upset spreads on Liz’s face before she returns to tending to her ankle and Bill feels the onus put on him to chill things over, knowing how much she’s tried to do to help him. “It’s not her fault he’s like that,” he says softly so he doesn’t get her more riled up. “He’s most egregiously stubborn, but we’ll find it somewhere.”

“Where, Bill, out in the woods,” Missy asks exasperatedly. “God, I needed to have this - I needed _you_ to have this, people seeing you dance the way you do.”

Bill frowns. “People see us all the time, Missy, it’s okay.”

“I mean someone away from here.” She looks up and squeezes his hand again, wiping at the mascara starting to run down her cheeks as she says, “I’m okay staying here, but I want you to have a bigger shot. The way you move is out of sight, Bill, and maybe there’s some kinda agent or something that’s gonna be there who’ll see that too. You have to do this gig for me, okay?”

The sentiment is sweet and makes him squeeze back just as hard; Bill knows she means every word and he hates that he’s gonna let himself stick with the gig on her account alone. There’s nobody else who can replace her, though, all the other dancers booked up at Edgewood or somewhere else on that day and he wants to tell her that, but he doesn’t know how without making her more upset. As he tries to think of a way around it, he hears what he thinks could be the footfalls of the med staff coming and kisses the back of her hand. “I’m gonna be right back - don’t move, alright?”

His joke manages to make her smile even as she winces after Liz gets her jacket off and folds it up to act as a makeshift pillow for her foot. Bill finds some comfort in just how quick the staff are and is ready to congratulate them only to find just a breeze of chill night air when he opens the doors. He absolutely knows he heard someone walking around, craning his head to find whoever it might be. It’s most difficult to not grit his teeth and shout when those annoying boys sprint past the hall, especially when he turns in the direction they came from and sees two more figures headed for the stairway.

And especially because once they come in airshot, he can very clearly hear Deacon saying, “Alright, Teddy, I’m going! Dad’s not even back yet, relax.”

Teddy sighs out his thanks before pointing towards those stairs and saying, “We’re lucky he is most indisposed at the moment.”

Bill can see and hear just how frazzled Teddy sounds and it makes him want to give Deacon a good kick in the pants. He really has to go back to Missy, but the sight of Teddy rolling his eyes at his brother and reaching back to let his hair down has him stuck. Deacon laughs at the way Teddy shakes it out before he says, “You look like a poodle or something,” and Bill ignores it in favor of watching how comfortable the older Logan looks now once his hairtie’s on his wrist instead. The two of them start gently ribbing each other while they walk and Bill very quickly realizes that even if the younger of the pair can be a little shit, it’s clear that they still love each other. It’s enough to make him satisfied to pull away and he just starts to as he hears Liz complaining about the cold until Deacon looks up and notices the light coming from the hall. “What’s going on over there?”

Teddy’s panic once the question comes out of Deacon’s mouth matches Bill’s as he hears him say, “Nothing, Deacon, we gotta go.”

“Just a sec,” Deacon says before sprinting towards the hall. “Hey, it’s that guy from the gazebo! What’s happening?”

Teddy narrowly misses trying to grab Deacon’s arm to pull him away just as he reaches the entrance, his brow pulling in tight in frustration before he looks up at Bill and pulls his hand back. “Uh, sorry,” he rushes out while his brother tries to peer over Bill’s shoulder. “We were just leaving.”

Bill starts to say it’s okay, but Deacon’s quicker to speak than he is as he scoffs and says, “Hold on a sec, what happened to her?”

That makes Teddy come closer too, the worry in his eyes clear as he tugs at his hairtie nervously once he gathers something’s amiss. “Wait, is that Missy? What’s wrong?”

“Um,” Bill sounds out dumbly, looking back at the way Liz’s trying to get Missy not to sit up. “It’s her ankle, it’s all messed up.”

“Oh no, what-”

“Whoa,” Deacon chuckles out, bouncing on his feet. “Is it all bruised up and stuff?”

“Deacon!”

“I’m just asking!”

Teddy glares at him before looking back to Bill and asking, “She’s gonna okay, right?”

Bill nods and wants to say, “Yeah, it’s not that bad,” but gets cut off two words in by Missy wrestling out of Liz’s hold to sit up and yell, “No, I’m not gonna be okay! Get out of here and mind your own business, asshole!”

Deacon raises his arms in surrender and runs back a few steps with his tail between his legs, but Teddy stays where he is with his arms wrapped around himself. “I’m sorry, um - Bill, um - do you guys need any-”

“I said _go away!”_

Missy practically shrieks that before flopping back onto the couch with a whine of pain and Bill looks back one last time at the desperate way Liz tries to calm her down before turning back to Teddy and shrugging. “You gotta get out here,” he says softly, the conflict between protecting his older sister of sorts and trying to keep this beautiful boy in his good graces heavy on his heart. “Sorry, Teddy.”

“Uh, it’s-”

“Please.”

Teddy swallows thickly, crushing Bill's soul a little. “Sorry,” he whispers again before turning on his heels and meeting up with Deacon to head back to the guest cabins.

Bill has to really fight to convince himself that the sad slump in his shoulders is just embarrassment so he doesn’t get hurt. It’s only when Liz gets on him about the cold for a second time that he finally stops watching the Logan brothers leave and shuts the hall back up. Once he’s sat down and got Missy’s hand in his again, he lets himself sigh and asks, “So what do we do about next week?”

“There has to be somebody else,” Missy grits out through her teeth. “There’s gotta be.”

“Oh wait, what about Jo?”

_“Jo?”_

Liz shrugs where she sits. “She can waltz, at least.”

“Everybody can waltz, this routine's way more complicated,” Missy sighs sadly.

“But she’s the only one not busy,” Liz counters. "There's still time."

“Let’s just not worry about it,” Bill says before having to squeeze Missy’s hand a second time and follow up with, “For now,” when she looks ready to snap again. “Right now, we gotta make sure you get looked at and then we can talk about who dances with me. Deal?”

“Deal,” Liz says before looking down at Missy sweetly. “And you?”

Missy still looks like she wants to fight, but she eventually relents and nods weakly with a mumbled, “Fine. You’re both really sweet, by the way. Thanks.”

“We’re simply looking after you the way we should - right, Bill?”

“Most definitely,” Bill says.

The next time there’s a noise outside, it actually is the med staff with Jo at their side, and Bill’s totally okay with backing up and letting them examine her. It’s immediately clear that she’ll have to get an xray, but Oats isn’t a complete monster and their insurance from the hotel will cover it with the staff having no problem driving her over in the morning once the four of them have gotten some rest. She’ll have to sleep in their quarters, but Missy swears she doesn’t mind once Bill promises that he’ll go with her to get checked out. As they wheel her away, Missy smiles fondly at him and waves with, “Tell those Logan kids I’m sorry next time you see them, okay?”

He, Liz, and Jo all laugh at that. “Swear I will,” he says, the way that she’s already trying to make up charming him.

After she’s squared away, the trio make the trek back to their cabins with Bill leaving it up to the sisters to explain to the rest of the entertainment staff that one of their leaders is gonna be down for the count for a while. With everything from Audrey, Oats, and the entire Logan family, he needs some much needed alone time in his cabin and he tugs that suit off to throw in a heap the second he’s inside. It’s approaching midnight and a tiny part of him regrets promising Missy he’ll join her in the morning since he needs the sleep. At the very least, Mrs. Barker’s Tuesday lessons aren’t until the middle of the afternoon, so he can probably nap between the hospital and her studio time. The idea of dancing troubles him now, knowing the hell that’s to come from finding someone to fill in for Missy, but he has to push through it if he wants to survive.

As he gets settled in for bed in just his boxers, a wild idea for who could fill in crosses his mind, but he laughs and rolls his eyes the second it does. There’s no way Missy would stand for it and he’d turn it down immediately if it got suggested so he doesn’t embarrass himself and yet.

It doesn’t make the idea of dancing with Teddy again any less appealing.

**Author's Note:**

> So! Are we all with it? Are you bothered by the use of "dude" even though that area was using it in the 60s? Is this AU looking alright? Oh well! See you next time.


End file.
